unconscious mutterings

This is a way old post that I prepared for Unconscious Mutterings.  Don’t know why I didn’t post it at the appropriate time, just got distracted.  Just a little psych fun for today…Ooo, look!  Something shiny over there!

  1. Groovy :: bay-bee!
  2. Jealousy :: envy
  3. Watching :: my girlish figure
  4. Kenny :: Loggins – ‘Footloose’!
  5. Games :: darts (learning to play them now)
  6. Bread :: wheat – on my grocery list
  7. City :: limits
  8. Stems :: wine glasses
  9. Birds :: road rage ‘fingers’
  10. Listener :: radio fan

Please visit Unconscious Mutterings to see what is current and create your own list. Thanks!

The Ghost of Thanksgiving Past…

Note from the Editor:  This post is Rated ‘R’ for use of the F-word!

1125_burnt_turkey.jpegAutumn of 1994, I owned a new Saturn with a leaky rear window seal.  How did I know it was leaking, you ask? Dallas, Texas had a long dry spell that fall, so when we finally had a storm, in November, and my back seat was wet,  I surmised that there might be a leak.  So I did what any naive, single girl would do: I took my car back to the dealership where I had purchased the Saturn and reported the problem.  Of course, I finally waited for a day off work so I could drive the car across town and we’d had no rain for a few days, so the seat was dry when I got there.  After four hours in the waiting area, the technician told me that he was unable to recreate the soggy backseat (using the washbay at the dealership).  He basically patted me on the head and sent me away.  Grrrr!

The next time it rained ( a month later), my backseat was wet again.  I did not pass go, did not collect $250 dollars – I drove straight to the dealership. The same day.  This time, the technician told me that my backseat was NOT wet, that he was very busy with legitimate customer complaints, and pointed me to the door.  Say it with me now: NO HE DI-IN’T!

I asked to see the General Manager of the Saturn dealership, who obviously had a chat with the technician before meeting with me.   The GM walked into his office, where I had been waiting, and before he even sat down, he was already asking me what I was trying to ‘squeeze’ them for.  Huh?  I explained to him how I felt about the way I had been treated by the Service Department, and how I was offended by the question he had just asked me.  I asked him to come out to my car with me, and he agreed.  When we got out to the car, he felt the backseat and told me it was not even damp.  Of course, I asked him to put his Dockers-clad ass in that backseat to prove it was indeed not wet.  Not surprisingly, the GM was not willing to do that for me.  Neither was the technician!  The GM and I walked back to his office, sat down, and he asked me again to explain what I wanted. I calmly explained that I was only interested in having my records transferred to a Saturn dealership a little closer to my home and a couple of oil changes thrown in for compensation for all the aggravation with their particular service department.   The GM agreed to send my records over to the other Saturn dealership, but felt that the oil changes were asking too much.  We went over and over the obvious disservice I had endured, but the manager would not budge.  He finished by telling me, “I think we’re done here. Have a Happy Thanksgiving.”  To which I responded, “Fuck you.  I hope your turkey burns.” Then I got up and marched out of his office.  

I did finally get my car window seal repaired – at another dealership.  My family never celebrates Thanksgiving without making me share the story again and I’m certain that this year will be no different.  Even twelve years later, it still brings a smile.

Have a Blessed Thanksgiving.  I hope your turkey does NOT burn!

Gotta Share!

Check this out, if you’re into cross-stitch.  Even if you’re not.